Vamp-Hire by Gerald Dean Rice Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Gerald Dean Rice
of which, where’s my
cut from the other night?”
“I never got it. Guns were shot at my head,
remember?”
“Oh, yeah. That wasn’t the deal.”
Nick looked at him as if to say ‘You’re
telling me’.
“Okay, so go over what happened again.”
Nick explained, leaving out the part about
his intense desire to eat her when actual contact was established
between them.
“She told me her husband was in the Conflict
and never got to kill anything. I was supposed to be a gift for the
both of them. And it was cool because I’m a vampire and I can’t die
unless I get staked or have my head chopped off.”
“But you’re not vampire.”
Nick repeated his look from before.
“You sure you don’t already know about the
job I’m working on?”
“How could I? You haven’t told me yet.”
“Right. You still in?”
Nick thought of the bills that he still
needed to cover and quickly nodded. “Yeah.”
“I’ll call the number I have for Nancy and
let you know when I see you later.” He slid the backpack off and
unzipped it, taking out Nick’s little duffle. “Your phone was dead
and I charged it. I didn’t turn it on, though.”
Nick took the bag and put the strap over his
shoulder. There was already heavy traffic on the road at whatever
hour this was. He and Lucky said goodbye, Nick remembering to ask
for his cell number at the last moment, and went their separate
ways.
He turned his phone on and saw it was Monday
morning, a little after eight.
“Wow, it really has been four days.”
Phoebe should have been at work and he hoped
that meant ‘Pop-Pop’ was busy finding something to do and he could
go home and sneak in a shower. Then his cell began chiming as
several text messages and voicemail alerts started popping up.
When he read the first text message, he began
to walk faster. By the time he’d listened to the second voicemail,
he was running.
When he and Phoebe had established their
living arrangement, the rules had been simple. After ten o’clock he
was not allowed upstairs. Conversely, she and Randy were not
allowed in the basement, though he suspected she was probably
afraid to go down there regardless of the time of day. If either of
them intended to have guests, they had to give at least a
twenty-four hour notice, which probably contributed to her agitated
state the other night when she’d asked him to leave; he hadn’t even
gotten one hour’s notice. Their last rule and probably most
important to Nick and currently being violated—had been no changes
to the house.
Nick spotted the scaffolding before turning
onto his street and then the three men actively ripping shingles
off the roof.
The men on the scaffold were pulling away the
vegetation that had attached itself to the siding and gotten the
chimney in a stranglehold. As he was passing by, he spotted a
rectangle of the concrete driveway broken up and removed. The slab
had already cracked from the root of a tree which had grown
underneath it and there were two men in the process of leveling the
dirt there.
All they were doing was making repairs,
repairs that he had to admit needed to be made. Still, it agitated
him. They were changing his home from how he had known it. His
house, despite its flaws, was comfortable, like a beat up old
shoe.
Worst of all was the big black Hummer parked
in the driveway. His mind flashed back to the Sesame Street skit
where the puppets would sing about one of these things not
belonging. He’d never seen such a huge vehicle before outside of a
semi-truck. It was so wide he didn’t think another car would have
been able to park in the driveway.
Nick had stopped without realizing, intending
to keep walking as if he were going down the street to some other
house. A heavy hand clapped him on the shoulder.
“Take those bricks around back, would
you?”
Nick turned to see a much older, taller man
half looking down at him. He seemed to be surveying the house, like
he owned it. This must have been
cut from the other night?”
“I never got it. Guns were shot at my head,
remember?”
“Oh, yeah. That wasn’t the deal.”
Nick looked at him as if to say ‘You’re
telling me’.
“Okay, so go over what happened again.”
Nick explained, leaving out the part about
his intense desire to eat her when actual contact was established
between them.
“She told me her husband was in the Conflict
and never got to kill anything. I was supposed to be a gift for the
both of them. And it was cool because I’m a vampire and I can’t die
unless I get staked or have my head chopped off.”
“But you’re not vampire.”
Nick repeated his look from before.
“You sure you don’t already know about the
job I’m working on?”
“How could I? You haven’t told me yet.”
“Right. You still in?”
Nick thought of the bills that he still
needed to cover and quickly nodded. “Yeah.”
“I’ll call the number I have for Nancy and
let you know when I see you later.” He slid the backpack off and
unzipped it, taking out Nick’s little duffle. “Your phone was dead
and I charged it. I didn’t turn it on, though.”
Nick took the bag and put the strap over his
shoulder. There was already heavy traffic on the road at whatever
hour this was. He and Lucky said goodbye, Nick remembering to ask
for his cell number at the last moment, and went their separate
ways.
He turned his phone on and saw it was Monday
morning, a little after eight.
“Wow, it really has been four days.”
Phoebe should have been at work and he hoped
that meant ‘Pop-Pop’ was busy finding something to do and he could
go home and sneak in a shower. Then his cell began chiming as
several text messages and voicemail alerts started popping up.
When he read the first text message, he began
to walk faster. By the time he’d listened to the second voicemail,
he was running.
When he and Phoebe had established their
living arrangement, the rules had been simple. After ten o’clock he
was not allowed upstairs. Conversely, she and Randy were not
allowed in the basement, though he suspected she was probably
afraid to go down there regardless of the time of day. If either of
them intended to have guests, they had to give at least a
twenty-four hour notice, which probably contributed to her agitated
state the other night when she’d asked him to leave; he hadn’t even
gotten one hour’s notice. Their last rule and probably most
important to Nick and currently being violated—had been no changes
to the house.
Nick spotted the scaffolding before turning
onto his street and then the three men actively ripping shingles
off the roof.
The men on the scaffold were pulling away the
vegetation that had attached itself to the siding and gotten the
chimney in a stranglehold. As he was passing by, he spotted a
rectangle of the concrete driveway broken up and removed. The slab
had already cracked from the root of a tree which had grown
underneath it and there were two men in the process of leveling the
dirt there.
All they were doing was making repairs,
repairs that he had to admit needed to be made. Still, it agitated
him. They were changing his home from how he had known it. His
house, despite its flaws, was comfortable, like a beat up old
shoe.
Worst of all was the big black Hummer parked
in the driveway. His mind flashed back to the Sesame Street skit
where the puppets would sing about one of these things not
belonging. He’d never seen such a huge vehicle before outside of a
semi-truck. It was so wide he didn’t think another car would have
been able to park in the driveway.
Nick had stopped without realizing, intending
to keep walking as if he were going down the street to some other
house. A heavy hand clapped him on the shoulder.
“Take those bricks around back, would
you?”
Nick turned to see a much older, taller man
half looking down at him. He seemed to be surveying the house, like
he owned it. This must have been